Secrets of life
by A-Writter
Summary: That night Ian Potter was hailed the boy-who-lived and his twin, Harry, was abandoned at the mercy of some muggles. Years later Voldemort returnes, Dumbledore realizes he has made a huge mistake, Harry (given the name of Christopher) it s desperate of getting some answers and the magical world is relying on his boy who lived, who is crumbling under the presure.
1. Writing down memories

**_First of all let me say that I love writting, although that does not mean that I´m any good at it. I hope you like this fanfiction. Reviews are always welcome good (for make me happy) or bad (to help me improve)._**

**_Let me warn you that I almost always ship Harry and Hermione and it is must lilkely that this fanfic will not be the exception. Also I have a terrible spelling so sorry about that. Emm oh Lily and James are not so bad in this story, the same with Dumbledore. I think it is also important that I tell you that I hate Ginny so if you do like her is posible you won´t like this very much._**

**_If after all this you still what to read my fanfiction, well then thanks I hope you enjoy it, if you decide to stop reading at this point then that is a shame although I don´t really blame you._**

**_One last thing, the preview of the story: Harry was left at the doorstep of a muggle family, who named him Christopher (Chris for short). He grew up as a muggle and never recived his Hogwarts letter. Ian is his twin and also the boy who lived, he is currently in the summer between his fourth and fifth year._**

**__****_Oh and I don´t own Harry Potter bla bla bla..,_**

_Dear Diary:_

_I don´t like the fact I am so freaking strange. Just yesterday I somehow managed to make a rock transform into a flower. Everyone freaked out and I don´t blame them. I am wired; I´m a monster and I truthfully can't understand why my parents insist in not throwing me into a garbage can for the garbage men to take me away in their smelly buses. Gods knows how they are in all their rights of doing so. I hate myself; better yet I hate the things I can do. No matter how cool they are._

_January 18 1989_

Christopher Finished reading the passage in his diary. It had been a present from his aunt Trace for his seventh birthday. He could still remember his deep disappointment upon seeing his favorite aunt had actually given him a _diary._ That in his opinion was surely not something a cool seven year old should have, never mind use.

Never less he started writing in it when he was eight and was in desperate need of someone to whom he could trust all his secrets, that for being so young where many. The diary held absolutely every single thing he wished no one ever knew about him. Every freakish act he had ever done was written down in the not so thin notebook.

He was fourteen now (almost fifteen), and thank god he had managed some kind of control over what he called his "special talent". The accidents had decreased enormously the last three years and now almost no weird things happened around him, although if he was very angry or sad or in general feeling a very strong emotion his "special talent" kicked in and preformed some stupid and illogical thing that will put not only him, but his family as well, in ridicule. They were the underdogs of the neighborhood. His parents made a huge effort trying to pretend they didn't care, but Chris could see how every time some neighbor made a B.B.Q and they were not invited how his father will sport a sad and resigned face for almost a week, sometimes more. Or when the women gathered around for a cup of tea to discuss the latest gossips how his mother would make a chocolate cake or some other absurd thing to make herself forget that aside of her small family there was no other person who liked her.

He himself wasn't mister popular; actually he didn't have a single friend. Every time he had tried (that were in fact many) it didn't last, because he would do something to scare the kid away. After some time he had accepted the fact that he was kind of an abomination who wasn't destined to having friends. What bothered him the most was the fact that he was never going to have a girlfriend. He would never receive a kiss nor would he ever move on to third base with any girl. He was probably the most miserable excuse of a man on earth.

Without his mother and father he would have probably grown up as a depressed and bitter man who isolated himself of any human being by living in some small cave in some remote place. His parents had been great, always there for him, giving him love and taking care of him not to mention accepting him just the way he was and by doing so they had teach him to accept himself as well and to make the most of what he was and not to dull in something he would never be. For example a normal teenage boy who could have the possibility of getting laid.

He looked down at the diary once more and read what his eight year self had once written. He couldn't help but laugh at his foolishness. Although deep down he knew that somewhere in there was still that afraid little boy with all his doubts and insecurities.

He graved a pen and flipped the pages until he reached a new and clean one where he could write. After a moment of hesitation he leaned down and wrote:

_Dear diary:_

_There is this girl I have like a massive crush on. She is hot; no scratch that she is super-hot but the problem is that she has a boyfriend. Guess who the git is? Yes no other than Davis Shaw, the football Capitan and dumbest person currently residing the planet earth. He is so not worthy of such an amazing girl as Macy Tyrell. But what a geek like me can do about that? Even if she wasn't dating that brute she will probably never even notice my existence. I hate popularity you know?_

_Today it was one of the "days". I had finally gathered the courage to speak to Macy but just as I was going to ask her if she needed any help with biology class my mouth went dry and not a single word come out of my lips. I just stood there with my mouth open looking like an idiot. She of course lough and I don't really blame her. But anyways that it's not why I'm writing, no it's because just as she was turning to leave her brute of a boyfriend arrived and upon seeing me he decided he could use punching someone. And yep that someone was sadly me. Just when he was about to shot the first blow my "special talent" made an act of appearance and he was thrown backwards by an invisible force. He ended up at the other side of the hall, crashing with the lockers that where in the wall. It was a nasty crash but not as nasty as the principals scold. I was given a suspension you see and Mother went crazy. Now I'm grounded. She didn't even care that I was actually acting on self-defense! Bloody woman._

_June 2 1996_

Just as he was finishing writing he felt a piercing pain in his head. It was not the first time this happened but it was definitely the worst so far. The pain was such that for a moment all he could see was white. He didn't realize he had screamed or that he had fallen from the chair. All he could focus on was on the pain. Just as he was about to lose consciousness images started flashing in his head. Two babies on a white crib, crying. A woman smiling to the same babies. A man with red eyes, filled with triumph, pointing a steak to the green eyed boy. Images and more images past flashing through his mind, each time faster and faster until it abruptly stopped in one scene. The man with the red eyes was again there, but he looked more tiered, like if the black cloak that he was wearing was so heavy that his shoulders were having trouble supporting it. Although the arrogance and cruelty was still there, radiating from the man´s very soul. He wasn't alone; there was also a small and pudgy man that had a face that resembled that one of a rat. He was scared, that was obvious. Next to him was another man. He was tall and held himself with an air of arrogance. He had aristocrat features and a long platinum, almost white, hair. Both men were wearing black cloths and if you bothered to look carefully you could see the strange tattoo both men sported on their left arms.

"You have news Lucius?" The man with red eyes spoke. His voice was no louder than a whisper and held something that remained you to the snakes. Louis couldn´t see the man´s features, only his red eyes.

"Yes my lord" Answered the tall man. He held himself with dignity and was trying to conceal his fear, but it was still palpable in the air. He was scared shitless by the creature that was in front of him and Chris couldn't really blame him.

"The Potter boy is an imbecile, just an arrogant school boy. My son Draco assures me that he has no special talent what's so ever"

The man with the red eyes laughed. It was a low and cruel lough that chilled your bones to the core. The rat man cringed and made himself smaller, as if wanting to just blend with his surroundings and disappear.

"Then the old coot isn´t as fool as I thought. His is probably acting mediocre on purpose. Wanting me to underestimate the boy-who-lived. A clever move I may add"

"No my lord" The man spoke hesitantly as if afraid of what his master would do to him for contradicting him. "If what my son says is true, that I surly think it is" The man continued. "The Potter boy would not act like that because he wants to. The boy seeks to be better than anyone. He craves power and he has this absurd idea that he is actually the most powerful wizard on earth, which of course he isn't. So there is no logic in him putting himself down, it doesn't match with his personality, my lord" The man with the creepy red eyes didn't answer, instead he pointed a long white stick to the man, then he muttered a word and a blinding blue light went flying straight to the man´s chest. Just as the light come in contact with his body he fell down to the ground screaming in pain.

"You foul. Of course it is an act. The boy it's just a great actor and he is doing a great job deceiving not just me but my followers as well. You see Lucius I know the kid is powerful. I have shared his thoughts. I can feel his magic through my veins not to mention he defeated me when he was just a small little stupid son of a bitch boy. In fact he is here right now, listening to every single word we are saying, isn't he warmtail?" The rat man jump a little by being addressed. He was sweating profusely and it seemed as if he was going to be sick at any moment, but even like that the man managed a small "My lord?" Before he, just like his partner, was hit by a blinding blue light that made him scream with agony.

"No one ever told you that it is rude to eavesdrop? It's time to wake up little Ian" And just like that Christopher was pulled out of the scene and brought back into reality.

He felt tired and every single part of his body ached, especially his head. He was sweating and he could feel a warm thing sliding from his forehead all the way down to his lips.

"He´s awake Arnold" He heard the faint voice of what he supposed was his mother, but he didn't have time to check if he was right because just then everything turned once again black and he knew he was slipping back into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**This chap is short i know and I´m sorry.**

**Guys review please ! if they are good then you make me very happy, if they are bad then you help me improve and if there are none then I´m miserable! come on**

**Rectifying errors**

_Scotland, Hogwarts, Headmaster office_

"What are you saying Albus!" A Thirty three year old man with wild brown hair and rounded black glasses was yelling to the older man that was in front of him. His companion seemed to have over a hundred years old. His blue eyes looked tired and in them there was no longer any trace of their characteristic twinkle.

"Just what you heard James. We made an enormous mistake that Halloween night. I'm afraid the boy it´s not the chosen one. You have seen him my boy, he is almost mediocre in all his classes except for Transfiguration. But allas you cannot defeat the greatest dark wizard in the history by simply transfiguring things"

"You don´t know it for sure. Maybe the kid is just a late bloomer" The old man, Albus, seated down on the chair that was behind a desk full of unimaginable things. Silver instruments that moved by themselves, a vessel that contained a strange bluish liquid substance that from time to time formed an image or two. There were many other stuff that you don´t normally see in your everyday life but what stood out the most was a beautiful red and golden bird that held itself with a dignity that no other animal could ever hope to have. The bird flew graciously to the shoulder of the man, who started stroking it with loving care.

"That´s what I thought at the beginning James, but deep down I always knew the kid was just not so powerful. I even come to think that maybe stopping the killing curse when he was just a one year old toddler had somehow drained his magic, but it does not have logic. The prophesy clearly states that the boy-who-lived, and only him, could defeat the dark lord. We must come to accept that maybe Ian is not that boy. No one was there to say with certainty what happened. We can just try and guess, praying that we are right" The younger man was now pacing back and forth across the circular room. A small tear had formed in the corner of his brown eyes.

"Why did we send Harry away, anyway? He could have grown up alongside Ian and now we wouldn´t be having this discussion"

"You know as well as I do that it was the best thing to do at the moment James. Little Harry would have grown up at the shadow of his twin not to mention that having two boys and no way to clearly determine who saved us all will make a breach within the people. They would have divided into groups. Some will think Harry´s the boy-who-lived and other will give their support to little Ian. We couldn´t afford something like that to happen"

"Still, sending him away was a mistake! What kind of father just disposes of his son because he isn´t that important. Tell me Albus, who?" Angry tears were now falling through James red face. The sorrow and grief in which his words were said made the old man cringe with guilt and regret.

"And what do I say to Ian? Sorry son but guess what? You aren´t the boy who lived! It's your twin brother, who you don´t know anything about because your mother and I decided he was an unnecessary burden. Isn´t great?" Once again Albus cringe at the tone of voice the younger man used. It seemed as he had aged fifty years just in that moment.

The old man sighed and with what seemed incredible effort he straightened himself. "That's not my plan" He began "Well not entirely. You see James your family is kind of the icon of the light. The fact that you got reed of young Harry will not be seen good and we cannot afford losing support of certain people. What I was thinking was that we kept both of your sons in the blissful ignorance. I don´t see the reason we shall tell Ian he isn't the prophesized child, as you said, he would feel as if his entire identity was nothing but a lie and Harry doesn't need to know he has a twin, nether that he is actually the boy-who-lived. We are going to protect him and like that he will be able to fulfill his destiny and conquer the dark side"

"So you are saying that Ian will still be the-boy-who-lived to the entire wizarding world when in fact Harry will be the one to defeat Voldemort?" James had somewhat calmed down and was now seated in one of the chairs that was at the opposite side of the old man, who after listening to James nodded his head in agreement. Some of the twinkling had returned to his wise blue eyes.

"That´s exactly what I meant. I´m glad you catch on so quickly"

"But wouldn´t be Ian stealing the credit to harry?"

"Well it´s for the greater good I suppose. And I'm guessing your next question will be how will Harry fulfill his destiny when he doesn´t know who he really is? and my answer will be that that matter is for latter, what its important now is that we go looking for your long lost son. Don't you think?"

"You know where he is?"

"Well of course I do. That Halloween night after we declared Ian the savior of our world" "Wrongly"- Said James. "Yes well unfortunately we made a mistake" Albus continued "I asked Minerva to take little Harry to a muggle orphanage. She of course didn´t complied with my orders and left your son at the doorstep of some muggles that, I don´t know how, Minerva knew. He grew up not knowing he was let's say "adopted". Now, if I'm not mistaken, the boy is living a peaceful life in a small town near Wales" When Albus finished James Potter had already stood up and was waiting at the door sporting an inpatient face. The old man couldn´t hold back a small chuckle at seeing his ex-student antics.

"There´s nothing I would like more than go and fetch Mr. Potter right away but I'm afraid we cannot do such thing. After all, the boy has no knowledge whatsoever of our existence or that he is actually a wizard. We most plan this carefully" Seeing the young man´s face Albus deemed important to add "But do not fret my dear boy, that your son will be among us by the beginning of the next school term, toasting with everyone else at the welcome feast

"We must go to the hospital Arnold. He looks so pale and his burning" He could hear his mother voice clearly. She was crying, he could tell by the occasional sob. He had just woken up. He didn´t have the strength to open his eyes just yet. He felt so tiered and every single inch of his body was on fire. Right now the only thing he wanted was some pain killers and maybe a hot cup of tea to calm his nerves. Maybe his mother could use one too.

"Let´s just wait until he wakes up Sara. You know that we can´t afford going to the hospital. I can´t pay neither for the doctor nor for the medicines" Chis was surprised at hearing this. He thought they were cool. The last time he checked his father restaurant was a success.

"How dare you? Your son might as well be dying and you don´t want to take him to the hospital! I don´t care if we don´t have the fucking money. Right now his health is our priority!" Chris winced at his mother tone of voice. Poor father, he definitely wouldn´t like to be in his position right now.

He didn´t want the discussion to go any further so he choose that exact moment to open his eyes and announce to his parents that he was alright.

"Chris!" His mother lunged herself to him enveloping him in a huge hug, which he returned happily.

"I'm okay mom. Really it was just a headache" His mother had finally pulled apart and was now looking at him right into his eyes. Upon hearing his words her crying stopped and was replaced by an angry frown. Oh just what he needed.

"Just a headache? Are you mad Chris? You were screaming at the top of your longs and when I entered your room you were lying on the floor trashing about with blood pouring from your scar and the worst was the strange blue thing surrounding you that wouldn´t let me get anywhere near you. It wasn´t until you stopped screaming that that horrible thing disappeared and I was able to assist you…" At this point his mother lost the last of her self-control and started crying violently. His father surrounded her by the waist with his arm and kissed her on the top of her head, but his mother continued muttering incoherent words and the salty tears seemed an unstoppable constant stream of water.

When his mother calmed down he managed to convince her that he was fine and the subject was never approached again, although Chris could clearly notice the occasional glances both of his parents send his way through out the last month and it bothered him immensely. They thought he was damaged and they treated him as if he was going to break down at any moment. His father had forced him to go with him at the restaurant and when he returned home his mother will insist on watching T.V with him, playing chess, backing a cake or anything she could think about. The point was that he was under the constant watchful eyes of his parents and it was stressful.

Although to be honest, Chris preferred to be busy during the day, that way the image of the vile creature with red eyes stayed away from his mind. Something he couldn't accomplish at night´s where the pudgy man along with the arrogant blond plagued his dreams with their terrifying screams.


End file.
